


Deeply, Slowly, Carefully

by AudreyV



Series: I'd Do Anything For Her [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bruises, Canon Bisexual Character, Canonical Child Abuse, Caretaking, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Consent, Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingerfucking, Friendship/Love, Gentle Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, Interracial Relationship, Intimacy, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Dynamics, Rape Recovery, Secret Relationship, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5342921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Do you know why you reacted the way you did last night?  I’ve done far worse to you.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Do you really need me to explain why I can take a beating but lose it when you’re nice to me?”</i></p><p> </p><p>Bonnie can handle pain, but being touched gently makes her panic.  After she pushes herself too far and falls apart, Annalise comes up with a strategy to help her devoted assistant learn to enjoy being adored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deeply, Slowly, Carefully

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the femslash kink meme 2015 for the "Annalise/Bonnie, consent play" prompt which is here:  
> http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2400197
> 
> Warnings: non-explicit flashbacks/panic attacks related to canon child sexual abuse; explicit (and explicitly consensual) sex between survivors, references to BDSM. 
> 
> Timeline: Takes place before Sam's murder, but after the Keating 5 were hired. Canon divergent because Annalise and Bonnie were probably not having secret kinky sex (but oh how wonderful it would have been if they were!)

"I told you to go home." Annalise sat at her desk in a wine colored nightgown, glaring at Bonnie as she poured herself another vodka. 

"You did. I just…”  Bonnie rarely struggled for words, except with Annalise. She supposed it made a kind of ironic sense that the person she most wanted to understand her was also the one who made her tongue tied. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just do better." Annalise didn't invite her to sit, but she also didn't demand that she leave, which Bonnie took as a good sign. “You’ve got to know your limits. You may be better at pain than anyone I’ve ever seen— you’re definitely better than I am. But that doesn’t mean you can push yourself so far past what you can handle and then run out of here without even a word to let me know you’re okay.” Annalise paused, taking the time to drain her glass and pour another before continuing.  “But maybe you knew you’d hit your breaking point. Maybe you just didn’t trust me to stop when you needed me to.”

“That isn't it at all and you know it." Bonnie’s voice was as firm as her body was tentative as she moved to the other side of the desk to kneel at Annalise's feet. “I trust you, so much. I wanted to push through it. I needed to see if I could.“

“A noble goal, until you ended up catatonic on my office floor." She looked down into her assistant's puffy red eyes and tear-streaked face and softened. "You scared me, Bon.  I didn't know what to do."

"That's a first."

"Oh shut up," came the reply, but there was no malice in it. Annalise pulled a second glass from her desk drawer, along with a small bottle of bourbon. She poured it and offered the glass to Bonnie, who accepted with a slight smile. 

“I didn’t know you liked bourbon.”

“I don’t. But you do.” Annalise watched as the words hit Bonnie, who flushed. “Can I tell you something ridiculous?”

“You can tell me anything.”

“When you froze up, went blank, I so was terrified that I’d do the wrong thing, I almost called Sam. It made sense at the time, he’s dealt with this sort of thing, he could tell me what to do… but can you imagine how that would have gone?

“It would have been memorable.”

"'Bonnie's having a meltdown.' 'Any idea what caused it?' 'None. One second she was moaning and begging like a madwoman while I ate her out, the next she was unresponsive and curled up in the fetal position." She swiveled her chair toward Bonnie, who scooted close enough to rest her head in her lap. Annalise smoothed down a few unruly strands of blonde hair. "You know, he thinks you're in love with him."

"Does he?"

"Thinks that's why you're always nervous and tip-toeing around him.  He keeps bringing it up, like I'm going to tell him that he's right. That or suggest we have a threesome."

Bonnie joined her boss in a quiet laugh at the idea, although her conscience nagged at her. “Am I a bad person for doing this with you?”

“Sam has had more than his fair share of teaching assistant and undergrad ass in the past 20 years. Don’t waste a moment worrying about his feelings.”

It wasn’t what she’d asked, and Bonnie didn’t like the implication that she was just another piece of ass, but she nodded anyway. She put her hand under her chin so she could look up at Annalise. She wondered if a day would come that she ran out of new things to like about the other woman, but every time they were in the same room there were more details she’d somehow missed. It could be something she noticed in the moment, like the way the cock of her hip changed her stance during a vehement closing argument, or just something most people would call insignificant, like the tiny scar between the second and third fingers on her left hand. 

Today Bonnie shivered at the way Annalise’s eyes were trained on her, as if she were a particularly complicated puzzle the other woman was determined to solve. Bonnie wasn’t sure she was solvable, but liked the idea of someone trying.

“God help me, Annalise, you've got that look."

"What look?"

"The one you get when you're about to win the case. Or destroy it. What are you thinking?"

“Do you know why you reacted the way you did last night? I’ve done far worse to you.”

“Do you really need me to explain why I can take a beating but lose it when you’re nice to me?”

“I suppose not.” Annalise conceded. “So there are a couple of options. I could stop being nice to you.”

“Next option.”

“I could be very, very nice to you.”

“And how would that work?”

“We make sure you have as much control as possible. Make things feel safe with frequent check-ins and breaks. Find where your boundaries are and interact with them very gently. And if you hit something you can’t deal with, I’ll take care of you. However you need me to.”

“You’re too good to me.”

Annalise didn’t argue with her, not because she agreed, but because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to convince her complicated assistant otherwise. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Bonnie chuckled quietly.

“What’s so funny?”

“Can you imagine what those L1s would think if they knew about this?”

“They'd be shocked. Except for Miss Castillo.”

“You think she and Frank put the pieces together?”

“No, Frank's clueless. But she’s figured it out. She’s got a sharp mind and she’s always paying very close attention, even when it looks like she isn’t.” A smile, another gentle caress of a dark hand through blonde hair. “She reminds me a lot of you, actually. But the rest of them? Not a chance.” 

“Doucheface keeps trying to suck up by telling me how ‘bogus’ it is that you’re mean to me.”

“Mr. Millstone isn’t the most perceptive person. He does like you, though.” 

“He also likes pickles covered in cheese wiz. Do we really trust his taste?”

“I think that’s enough talk about the L1s for tonight,” Annalise said firmly, tugging Bonnie up into her lap. When their lips touched, Bonnie’s extremities tingled like she’d touched a live wire. 

“So what would you prefer? I’m happy to smack your ass until you can’t sit tomorrow, if you’d like to stick to something familiar. Or we can try to get you acclimated to being adored. Or you can go home and we’ll pick this up another time. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Is Sam back early tomorrow?”

“Gone till Saturday. You can stay the night if you want to. As long as you’ve got clothes for tomorrow. We’ve got the hearing for the McLaughlin case.” The conversation was casual, as if they were simply standing in the kitchen discussing strategy, except Annalise was punctuating each statement with slow kisses down the side of Bonnie’s neck.

“I’ve got a bag in the trunk of my car.”

“Good girl,” Annalise murmured in her ear and Bonnie had to press her lips together hard to keep from moaning. It amazed her how deftly Annalise could wield those two ordinary words, striking down her defenses and leaving her wet and desperate. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“I’m here. Anything else?” Clever fingers made quick work of the buttons of her black and white flowered blouse, exposing the lace camisole underneath. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“How?”

This was new. Annalise had never made her articulate what she wanted; from the very beginning, she’d known, and made Bonnie’s body sing under her like it was effortless.

That first time was a lucky mistake. They celebrated a hard-won victory with too much champagne. Frank tapped out early (Bonnie knew her name at the time, but by now that student of the month was long forgotten) and Sam was away for an interview with the department chair at Smith, so it was just the two of them. 

They were sitting on the couch, Bonnie with her shoes off and her feet curled up underneath her, when she noticed Annalise staring at her. 

“See something you like?” she asked coquettishly, the champagne and the attention making her bold. (She would have said it was as if another person entirely had possessed her body, except even sober Bonnie wanted to be the girl who flirted with abandon.)

Annalise reached over and pushed the wide strap of her dress off her shoulder. Underneath the maroon fabric, a smattering of purples and blues gilded her pale skin.

“It takes a lot to surprise me, so I won’t say I’m surprised,” Annalise said, eyes darting from the blonde’s eyes to the patch of bruises and back again. “But I am curious.”

“Curious about how I got them?” Bonnie asked and Annalise laughed, a rich, boisterous sound.

“Oh, I know how you got them. I’m curious how far down they go,” she purred. Bonnie took it as a challenge. Without a word she stood, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She waited as Annalise's eyes followed the bruises down her body, then back up to her face. She held the other woman’s gaze as she unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms. 

This all could have been a foolhardy move, one that most people would have fired her for, but then Annalise was kissing her, one hand in her hair

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into,” she whispered, fingers zeroing in on a pale pink nipple, tugging hard enough to make Bonnie gasp. “But you will soon.” 

The man who’d left the bruises on Bonnie’s shoulder faded from her life soon after that. He was nice enough, careful enough, good enough in bed, but once she’d experienced the sharp sting of Annalise’s hand coming down hard on her ass, then the burn of her fingers thrusting roughly into her, Bonnie had been spoiled for everyone else. 

That night set a pattern. During the day, they were flawlessly professional. Most nights Bonnie merely said goodnight to her boss, then satisfied herself alone in her apartment, thinking about the next time Annalise would touch her. 

The nights they gave into it became a blur of hands grabbing frantically at clothes, bodies sweat-slick and sliding against each other, breathless peaks, fingers and teeth leaving clues the color of a sunset, and Bonnie going home and counting the new marks in her mirror. She started to favor dresses with high collars and blouses with long sleeves, although it thrilled her to wear skirts that risked exposing the evidence on her legs. Once when she was reaching for a box of granola on a high shelf, her short dress rode up enough for Sam to catch a glimpse of the fresh handprints on the backs of her thighs. 

(She could tell he was as intrigued as his wife had been. It gave her a little rush of power, but she would never risk her relationship with Annalise (strange as it was) to play both sides of their marriage.)

Until last night, their trysts had been relatively infrequent. Bonnie didn’t want the other woman to tire of her. It was only the times that she truly craved it that she’d appear at Annalise’s office door. She'd wait for either the shake of the head to banish her to her glass and chrome condo or the firm “come in and close the door” that made her heart beat fast. 

Last night something had shifted between them. Bonnie wasn’t sure what, how or when, but she felt it from the first kiss Annalise pressed gently to her lips. She was confused but went along with it as her boss undressed her, hands exploring the curves of her body at a leisurely pace. Their normal routine often saw the blonde begging on her knees or being taken against the wall with her skirt bunched around her waist. This time she was carefully, reverently stripped and laid back on the rug. 

When Annalise knelt between her thighs, she almost objected. Their encounters were mutually satisfying, but never so selfless. 

They’d known each other a very long time, in unusual circumstances. Bonnie knew about every one of Annalise’s miscarriages, affairs and back room deals. She trusted the woman with her darkest secrets. It wasn’t about trust. 

It was about the fact that it made what they were doing seem less like fucking when Annalise peppered her inner thigh with kisses. It scared her, but when lips and tongue began a thorough exploration, she pushed the fear out of her mind, wanting to commit every single sensation to memory. 

A war broke out in Bonnie, her rising desire clashing hard with the panic that had been building ever since Annalise had kissed her so sweetly. She ignored the cold sweat that beaded on her brow. She rationalized that it was just the thrill that was making her breath come short and shallow. She resolved to enjoy the moment if it killed her, but then everything stopped and went black. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unaware, but when Bonnie’s thoughts realigned, Annalise was close by, tears in her eyes and a furrow in her brow. She said something, maybe asked a question, but the blonde didn’t actually process it. She remembered mumbling that she had to go, pulling on her dress as quickly as she could and fleeing to her car. She sat there in the chill for long enough to realize that although she had grabbed the satchel with her keys and phone, she’d left her bra, underwear and camisole in Annalise's office. 

She didn’t go back for them. Instead, Bonnie went home and slept. The next morning she showered, dressed and came in to work as normal. 

Bonnie had worried that she’d screwed it all up, permanently, but she’d been brave and come to Annalise even after she’d been told to go. Now Annalise was looking at her expectantly as she tried to decide if she’d take the path she knew and could traverse easily or choose to venture into the unknown. 

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Annalise repeated.

“Deeply. Slowly. Carefully,” she said, the last word barely above a whisper. The other woman nodded and extended a hand.

“Would you like to go upstairs?”

“Yes,” she said. When they got to the bedroom, Annalise turned on a dim lamp and turned down the bed. 

“What now?”

“I think I’d like to freshen up, wash my face.” Bonnie turned to go to the downstairs bathroom, but Annalise shook her head. 

“You can use this one if you want to.” She gestured to the master bath.

Bonnie took her time, carefully scrubbing away every last bit of foundation and mascara. She felt acutely exposed without her signature red lipstick, but Annalise had already removed her own makeup and the glossy wig she wore during the day. Bonnie would do her best to be unguarded as well. 

“Hey.” Bonnie worked to keep the tension out of her body as she watched Annalise take off her earrings and place them in a cherry jewelry box.

“Hey. You okay?”

Instead of replying, Bonnie looked Annalise in the eye as she pulled off her camisole and slid her skirt down. She left both in a pile with her bra and underwear near the door. 

Her fingers worried the hem of Annalise’s satin and lace nightgown. She’d seen her in it before, of course, but she’d never imagined being the one to take it off. Fancy nightgowns belonged in bedrooms with husbands, not in offices or courthouse bathrooms with mousey assistants.

Yet here she was. With one swift motion Annalise’s nightgown was added to the pile. 

When the other woman joined her between the incredibly soft sheets, Bonnie tensed. 

“Nothing happens without your say so,” Annalise murmured, careful to keep their bodies separate even under the sheets. “If you want, we can go to sleep and check back in in the morning.”

Bonnie searched for he right words but what came out was “Kiss me?” and Annalise did, sweetly. Bonnie grabbed her hand and pressed it to her breast, guided strong fingers to a rosy nipple. She sensed Annalise holding back.

“I’m still good," she reassured. "You can touch my breasts however you want to. I’ll stop you if it gets to be too much. I want to feel like you want me.” 

“I want you. That’s not even a question,” Annalise whispered, thumb and forefinger worrying the pink nub. “I just want to know that you want this as much as I do.”

Bonnie caught Annalise’s hand, then held her gaze as she guided it down to the juncture of her thighs. 

“You feel how wet I am? You’ve barely touched me and I’m already soaked. That's how much I want you to fuck me.” 

Annalise bent to kiss her, muffling the moan that burst from Bonnie when she began to slide her fingers along her slick outer lips. 

“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” a voice purred in her ear, the words vibrating through her body as a fingertip nudged her clit. Bonnie felt a little faint just imagining the two possibilities, but she decided quickly.

“Your mouth.”

Annalise kissed her vehemently, then crawled down to settle between Bonnie’s legs. She lavished attention on the curve of her hip and her lower abdomen, tracing hot spots with her tongue. 

It was maddeningly indirect. By the time Annalise’s tongue flicked out to taste her, Bonnie was squirming from need. Annalise pulled back to lay kisses along her slit, and with each touch Bonnie felt more in awe that this gorgeous woman was worshiping her body. 

When lips and tongue found her clit, she arched her back and ground against Annalise’s mouth. It felt too good to be real, being ravaged by this person that she loved so deeply. (Bonnie wouldn’t go so far as to say she was “in love,” but she most definitely loved Annalise, beyond all logic.) The build to her release gained momentum, leaving her thrashing against the pillow. The ache had settled deep in her gut and her body was shuddering when she realized her extremities were tingling. 

“Annalise. I need to slow down.”

As soon as she’d spoken, everything stopped. Annalise crawled up to lay beside her. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m okay, I just… I still want this, so much, but my body thinks its going to war.” Bonnie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Will you hold me while you touch me?”

“My pleasure,” Annalise replied, and Bonnie almost believed her. 

(She wanted to believe her, because even with her anxieties and doubts humming in the background, all of this felt so real and right.)

Annalise moved close, curling toward her. One of her arms snaked under Bonnie’s head while the other came to rest flat, fingers outstretched on her stomach. Bonnie was please to find that, not only did this position feel much more protected, it also allowed her to kiss the other woman with a mere turn of her head. 

Bonnie’s legs drifted further apart of their own accord when Annalise’s free hand began to roam her lower body. It glided from ribcage to hipbone along the curve of her waist, then skidded toward her center before detouring again to caress her thigh. Annalise was a master of teasing, building anticipation each time she came close to touching Bonnie where she so desperately needed to be touched.

“You’re killing me here,” the blonde muttered.

“Then tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me with your hand,” and then strong fingers were sliding inside her, slowly stretching, sending chills up her spine. “Hard,” she added and Annalise complied, moving with more vigor. 

Bonnie pushed back against Annalise, desperate for more contact, greedy with want. She pressed their mouths together, their tongues dueling as she felt herself getting close to her peak. Annalise must have felt it too, because her pace became steady and driving, nudging her closer and closer, but not quite over the edge.

“More,” Bonnie pleaded and then a third finger joined the first two. She felt vibrant and full, like Annalise’s hand was a key turning in the lock of her entire body. A chain reaction that started with a shiver in her clit exploded, coursing through her as her vagina clenched hard around those gifted fingers. 

Bonnie cried out as she came. She buried her face in the crook of Annalise’s neck as the aftershocks hit her, and then tears were running down her cheeks and her body shook with sobs. 

“You’re safe. I’ve got you. Everything is okay,” Annalise murmured, but Bonnie shook her head.

“I’m okay, they’re good tears,” she managed to gasp. “That was incredible.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She slowly withdrew from Bonnie, whose body jerked involuntarily at the loss of contact. “Would you like anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“You just fucked me into another dimension and you’re asking if I want a snack?” The blonde placed her hand against Annalise’s cheek. “I’m the one who should taking care of you.”

“You’re always the one who takes care of me.” Annalise turned to press her lips to Bonnie’s palm. “It’s getting late. We have the hearing at 9. We should—”

“No.”

“No?”

“Tonight is about what I want, right?” Bonnie’s eyes sparkled when Annalise nodded. “Well, what I want is you, naked on this bed with my fingers inside you and my face buried in your cunt.”

“Christ, Bonnie, you can’t just say things like that.” Annalise looked intently at the woman next to her— her assistant, her friend, the one she’d been fucking for the better part of a year behind her husband’s back. 

If she was being honest, she’d acknowledge that this began as a convenient way to ease her stress. Making Bonnie’s slight, bruised body come apart underneath her always made her feel powerful. 

She wasn’t sure what made her decide to change their interaction. Bonnie liked pain, Annalise liked inflicting it. They both came and then Bonnie went home. It was as uncomplicated as fucking could be, until she wondered what it would feel like to kiss Bonnie like she meant it. 

“Are you okay, Annalise?” Bonnie asked, the bridge of her nose wrinkled with worry.

“What are we doing here?” 

“That’s a big question for this late at night.” 

“You’re right. Do you still want to—“

“Yes. Yes yes yes.” 

Annalise smiled at her and leaned back on the bed. “Then by all means. I’m yours until 7. Whether we spend any of the interim sleeping is entirely up to you.”

—

Bonnie’s energy was near-boundless, but they did sleep for several hours. When the alarm went off, Bonnie rolled over and reached for Annalise, but that side of the bed was empty and cold next to her. 

It was the first time she’d been invited to stay over, and it was unnerving to wake up alone. She showered, willing herself not to overthink things, even though she was quite certain something had shifted the night before. The memory of coming in Annalise’s arms made her feel almost lightheaded. 

Bonnie dressed quickly, dried her hair and slicked on her ruby lipstick like it might shield her from the fallout. She hovered at the doorway of the kitchen, watching Annalise pour two cups of coffee. 

“Hey.”

Annalise glanced at her, then turned back to the counter. “It’s not a good time, Bonnie.”

“I’ll be quick. I just wanted to—“

“I said not—“

“I heard you. But I won’t let you brush me off like this. I was fine with the quick fucks in your office because I thought that’s all you wanted. That you were happy with me being your serving girl, the broken little waif who kneels at your feet at the end of a long day of your cruelty and begs you to hit her. And Annalise, I actually like it, I love it, but last night you touched me like I was worth something and I liked that too. A lot. You took such good care of me, and I just wanted to say thank you.” Bonnie had directed much of her impassioned speech to the tiles on the floor, but she wrenched her gaze back to Annalise who was rubbing her temples, an odd expression on her face.

“Oh, this is just perfect,” a deep voice rumbled, and when Bonnie took a step further into the kitchen she saw that Annalise was not alone. Her compatriot Frank was leaning against the counter, a broad smile on his face. “Laurel bet me fifty bucks that the two of you were screwing, and I told her she was out of her goddamn mind. I thought maybe, MAYBE, you and Sam were hooking up, but this… this is pretty hilarious.”

“You can’t tell him, Frank. Please promise me you won’t tell Sam.” Bonnie hated the desperation in her voice.

“Of course I’m not gonna tell him. I’m not a total douche.” Frank rubbed his beard and grinned. “Fuck that guy. I’m Team Bonnie, all the way.” 

“Frank, leave,” Annalise snarled.

“Okay, fine, but the chuckleheads are gonna be here in twenty minutes, so you gotta be decent by then.” He paused by the kitchen door to grab an apple. “Actually, better make it fifteen. Prom queen always shows up early.”

The kitchen door banged shut and Bonnie very seriously studied the polka dots on the toe of her shoe. She bolstered her courage and forced herself to look at Annalise, who was an arm’s length away. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t. That was very brave of you. Foolish, but brave. Come over here.”

Bonnie edged closer, and then Annalise pounced, pinning her against the counter and shoving her tongue in her mouth. It was aggressive, but not angry, and the mental image of Annalise bending her over the kitchen table turned Bonnie on more than it should.

So much about this was still a bad idea. Sam wasn’t an idiot and Bonnie had no idea what would happen when he figured things out. Annalise was her boss, and wouldn’t go easy on her just because they were lovers, and if the L1 knuckleheads found out they were screwing, they’d never let her live it down. 

All of those things were secondary, however, to the worry that it was a dangerous thing to be so vulnerable with the one person who knew all your secrets. Annalise could already ruin her; there was no need to give her extra ammunition to do the job. 

Fuck it. She’d worry tomorrow. Today she was kissing, clinging to Annalise like their bodies made a circuit and the current was live. 

Bonnie reluctantly pulled away when she hear Frank talking loudly to someone in the next room, but Annalise caught her by the wrist. 

“The next time I say it’s not a good time, you need to trust me that it’s not a good time.” 

“I will. I’m sorry.”

Annalise smiled at her, and the smudge of bright red lipstick on her mouth made Bonnie shiver. ““Don’t apologize. Just do better.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I love this ship more than pretty much any other, ever, so I'm nervous about writing it well. Any comments/encouragement/constructive criticism would be very welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> 2) When I investigated "consent play" I found that some people use the term to mean consensual non-consent while others use it to mean exploration of explicit consent. Since those were pretty opposite, I asked the OP to clarify what they were looking for. Luckily for me they were open to several possibilities. I intended to write this as a "Bonnie wants Annalise to take away her safe word" BDSM fic and it ended up being an odd little love story about two people who care deeply for one another, even if they can't always admit that. 
> 
> 3) This is my first time writing survivors having explicit sex and it often felt like walking a tightrope between giving that history of violence the proper weight while still letting Bonnie be the strong, sexual woman she is in canon. I tried to write the sex as important and even potentially transformative without it being a magic cure-all. I hope I didn't fuck it up. 
> 
> 4) Bonnie Winterbottom will always be worthy of adoration, no matter how many kills she racks up.


End file.
